


heart sure as day

by clearlykero



Category: Free!
Genre: Courtship, First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:02:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26340838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clearlykero/pseuds/clearlykero
Summary: "Are you—" Makoto's fingers clench in the scarf, but he doesn't finish the sentence, like he's too afraid. Sousuke helps him out."I'm trying to court you," he says, relieved that he manages to get it out confidently enough. He doesn't want Makoto to think he's not sure ofMakoto.He might never have been more sure of anything in his life. "Do you want me to?"
Relationships: Tachibana Makoto/Yamazaki Sousuke
Comments: 5
Kudos: 98





	heart sure as day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nekoyuki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekoyuki/gifts).



> a prequel to my previous fic, [heart light as air](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25921933) :) but you can read them both as standalones!

The wind has gotten bolder now that winter is almost upon them, darting its chill breath into the gaps between Sousuke's sweater and skin. He glances at his watch again. It's already past their agreed time. He doesn't mind the delay, since they aren't really on a schedule, but it's making his nervousness a little more pronounced. The cold is serving to distract him, which is why he's loitering outside the swimming club instead of inside with the other parents.

Today, he's waiting for Makoto to finish up his children's swimming class so they can have their first official date. To be clear, Sousuke doesn't actually know if Makoto thinks that's what it is; although Rin had assured him Makoto felt the same way and that his first gift was just right, Sousuke doesn't have the most faith in Rin's experience that's been gleaned solely from romantic comedies and one mortifying experience in Australia that he's sworn never to speak of again. He'd considered consulting Kisumi about it, but advice from Kisumi comes with a big helping of Kisumi being enthusiastically nosy about all the details, and Sousuke… Well, there are a number of reasons Sousuke wants to keep Makoto to himself, for a while.

Everyone knows that Makoto is great with kids. Sousuke, being good friends with Kisumi, has heard all about the best and kindest Coach Makoto from little Hayato's starry-eyed praise. Some people say it's an omega thing, that there's some instinct deep in their DNA that makes them protective of all children. Omegas are meant to take care of the family, so by that logic Makoto's just the same. But Sousuke knows it's not an omega thing. It's just Makoto, warm and kind and a little smothering. The first time he'd seen it, Sousuke had been attracted immediately. And the more they've gotten to know each other over the past months, the more Sousuke thinks this could maybe, possibly, be something serious.

So this moment has come, his first courtship gift in his bag, nerves tense at the thought that even after everything Makoto might not want him. Which is— Sousuke likes Makoto just fine as a friend, but he's already gotten possessive. The idea of Makoto with someone else hurts, deep in the most animalistic parts of him.

Just then, he hears children shouting to each other, and the voices of their parents chiding them, and knows that the class must be over. Then the children start calling their goodbyes to Coach Makoto, and Sousuke studies his shoes, trying to calm his suddenly racing heartbeat.

"Sousuke!" There he is.

He gives his nerves one last moment to relax, then looks up to see Makoto's cheerful smile, the fading sunlight glancing off the droplets of water still clinging to his hair. "Sorry, did you wait long? Class ran over a little, and I know my hair is a mess but I didn't want to take time drying it and have you wait even longer—"

"I'm fine, Makoto," Sousuke interrupts, smiling helplessly. Makoto's concern has taken all the stress out of his muscles, though his traitorous heart is still beating too fast. "Where's your towel? You'll catch a cold if you're out with wet hair in this weather." He turns Makoto around and marches him back inside the club building where it's nice and heated.

"Sorry," Makoto says again, retrieving his towel from his bag only to start wringing it in his hands. Sousuke takes it before he can actually twist it into a knot.

"I said it's fine, stop worrying." Gently, he rubs the towel over Makoto's wet hair, and Makoto's cheeks flush pink. "We're not in a rush, anyway."

"Where are we going?" Makoto, probably because he's excited, leans a little closer. Sousuke mentally repeats the mantra that kissing is only for  _ after  _ your partner accepts the courtship, and manages to resist the temptation.

"Before I tell you— I have something for you, actually." Sousuke doesn't stop drying Makoto's hair because then Makoto can't see the apprehension written all over his face. "It's in my bag, on top of everything else."

A curious Makoto unzips the messenger bag at Sousuke's side and pulls out a neatly folded, forest green scarf. Sousuke had decided that discretion was the better part of valour and refrained from any shoddy attempts at wrapping, but at least he'd cut the tag off. It's from one of those horrendously expensive specialty brands that make soft clothes and accessories meant for nesting omegas. Sousuke doesn't know much about it, but the fabric is apparently the softest wool engineered in a custom pattern that holds scent longer than any others on the market. It's not a particularly subtle gift, but Sousuke isn't a particularly subtle person. 

Makoto runs his fingers over it, silent for long enough that Sousuke stops drying his hair too, hands falling back to his sides. He feels his nerves returning with a vengeance, and has to resist the urge to start wringing the towel himself.

"Is this for my birthday?" Makoto's voice is a little shaky when he eventually speaks.

"I gave you the Murata novel for your birthday," Sousuke reminds him. Makoto is still looking down, but Sousuke is very aware that if Makoto looks up now they're much, much too close, and without the excuse of Sousuke scrubbing a towel through Makoto's hair.

"Then what's," Makoto swallows, "what's the occasion?"

"I was planning to cook you dinner today," says Sousuke, grinning when Makoto's head snaps up and his eyes grow round with surprise. "Learned how to make dessert and everything."

"Are you—" Makoto's fingers clench in the scarf, but he doesn't finish the sentence, like he's too afraid. Sousuke helps him out.

"I'm trying to court you," he says, relieved that he manages to get it out confidently enough. He doesn't want Makoto to think he's not sure of  _ Makoto. _ He might never have been more sure of anything in his life. "Do you want me to?"

Instead of answering, Makoto winds the scarf around his own neck, the flush of his skin growing darker. Sousuke lets him settle it just how he wants to, and then he reaches up to frame Makoto's face with his hands. He and Makoto are only a couple of centimeters different in height, but the way Makoto's shoulders shyly curve towards Sousuke makes him seem smaller than he is.

"It smells like you," says Makoto, his fingers still unable to let go of the scarf.

"Good," Sousuke replies. Makoto laughs, tilts his face up the slightest bit, eyelids lowering, and Sousuke thinks:  _ damn it. _ "Makoto," he says, roughly. 

And before Makoto can answer, Sousuke closes the final, infinitesimal distance between them, and kisses him. There are no fireworks, but maybe a thrill of joy down his spine; no passionate clashing of their tongues, but the gentle press of confirmation, of saying yes— Sousuke has no sudden realisation that Makoto is the one, because Sousuke thinks he has always known. All he has to do is let Makoto know it too.


End file.
